


Fruit from a Rose

by Sunchales



Category: Sleeping Beauty (Fairy Tale)
Genre: Abduction, F/M, Faustian Bargain, Infertility, Mild Sexual Content, Minor Violence, Sappy, Young Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-11
Updated: 2015-05-11
Packaged: 2018-03-30 00:09:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3915802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sunchales/pseuds/Sunchales
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Briar Rose's run-ins with strange magic did not end when she got married. The help of a well-meaning magician brings more to her and her prince than either bargained for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fruit from a Rose

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hydrangea](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hydrangea/gifts).



> "Sleeping Beauty" and its regional variants are in the public domain.
> 
> I know that some versions of this tale continue after the Prince rescues Sleeping Beauty and involve the Prince's evil mother trying to eat Sleeping Beauty's children, but I decided to disregard that for the sake of the story. Also, I used the name Briar Rose for the princess, which I hope will confuse no one.
> 
> Finally, be warned for extremely sincere and passionate young love that may border on sentimentality.

The story of Briar Rose became famous almost overnight. A princess cursed to fall into an eternal sleep upon her sixteenth birthday proved fuel enough for many a gossip’s fire, but the news of a prince awakening her with nothing more than a kiss was more sensational still. It would be more unlikely for such a story _not_ spring to immediate fame.

The wedding between the two young royals attracted attention from nearly everyone who heard about it. Briar Rose insisted on inviting virtually the entire country—or so it seemed, from the stacks of invitations she had personally written by hand--to the nuptial celebration, and with a mock groan and roll of his eyes, the Prince consented. And the reception repaid the towering expectations of the populace: six white and six black horses pulled the newlyweds out into the courtyard, where they showered silver and copper to the veritable horde of guests; the wedding feast spread out across nine full-size tables and boasted a multi-tiered cake that reached to the heavens as its centerpiece; a hundred-piece band of minstrels and bards played the music at their reception. 

Most expected and most intense of all was the love the two shared. Shortly after their wedding, Briar Rose listened eagerly to all the additional vows the Prince continued to make to her, and she responded in kind. To hear them speak to each other, the observer would think these two Adam and Eve as they luxuriated in the cool day of the Garden before the serpent descended upon them to bring all to ruin. The only exchange that the originals of mankind could have not said that passed this couple’s lips went as follows:

“Would you do anything for me?” asked the Prince.

“Yes, I would even go to Hell for you,” replied Briar Rose.

The two young royals, awash in the all-consuming bliss of young love, naturally indulged in all varieties of the pleasures opened to them by their official union. In the day, they rode horses in the field or hunted boar and pheasants in the woods; at night, after their sumptuous, savory dinners garnished with hills of desserts and their warm baths accented with rose- and lilac-scented salts, they enjoyed each other’s bodies in countless ways.

After three years of such happiness, the two had still not conceived a child. Despite their apparent lack of interest in minding for the future, Briar Rose and her prince felt a certain apprehension at the fruitlessness of their coupling. Had they been ordinary folks, they might have viewed the situation somewhat differently—all those who had the equipment to bear children but not the means to raise them felt blessed whenever they passed another month without the dreaded swelling of their bellies—but a royal line demanded an heir. The castle doctors gave them treatment, but nothing helped.

“Oh, what can we do?” said the Prince with a sigh. “Either you are barren or I am sterile, and I know not how to remedy this situation.”

“But my love, do you wish to sire an heir so soon after our wedding? We have years to enjoy before the problem becomes calamitous.”

“You are only too right, beloved, but what shall we do when we are older and still have no heir to the throne? You are not an old woman, nor am I an old man; we ought to be in the prime of our fertility.”

The court astrologer, who at the time happened to be passing through the corridor outside the royal bedchamber, overheard this conversation. Pressing his hand to his mouth, he briefly pondered how he could best ensure a future for the crown. Unlike royal viziers, court astrologers enjoy a singular status that retainers generally envy, to say nothing of the innocent victims of righteous and bloodthirsty zeal, for court astrologers receive rewards in return for their trafficking in arts forbidden to other mortals. The sole hazard of this occupation is to make a dreadfully incorrect prediction, but nothing of the sort had yet occurred during this particular reign. In any case, a court astrologer has no reason to want to dispose of a legitimate heir to the throne—and even if he does, chances are good that his methods are all the more discreet for their arcane nature.

Considering the possibilities, he resumed walking to his own bedchamber.

The following evening, when the two young royals returned to their bedroom after hours of hunting in the sunlight, the astrologer met them by the door of their bedroom. 

“Why have you come to greet us so abruptly, my good wizard?” said the Prince.

“I could not help but catch wind of the distress you and your princess shared, my liege.” The astrologer bowed, his sleeves skirting the floor.

“We had not expected you to hear of a matter so personal,” began Briar Rose.

“But we dearly appreciate your concern,” the Prince interrupted. “What can we possibly do to remedy our fruitless state?”

“Let me into your chamber, and I will show you.”

The astrologer followed his superiors into their bedroom, whereupon he shut the door. He turned to face them again and cleared his throat.

“I will tell you how you may have a child, but you must be absolutely certain of your intention to accept the offer.”

“We will receive any advice gladly,” said Briar Rose. “Without an heir, the kingdom will flounder.”

And so the court astrologer spoke to the prince and princess of the arts in which he exercised mastery. He produced chalk from his pockets and drew a circle wide enough to encompass all three of them, then he reached into the folds of his robe, pulled out one amulet of silver and another of iron, and handed them to the couple.

“All you need do,” said the astrologer, “is to speak these names, and the One Who Will Aid You will appear.”

The Prince, who held the silver amulet, attempted to pronounce the inscription upon it, but the opaqueness of the font prevented him. Briar Rose looked at the inscription on her husband’s amulet but found herself similarly stymied.

“Very well, I will do it myself,” said the astrologer, who took the amulet back from the Prince and spoke the unpronounceable name.

A ball of darkness appeared in the center of the room and cast itself over the bedchamber’s entire surface area. Shadows painted the walls and ceiling, and in a flash of red light, a creature in the shape of a man materialized.

The prince and princess clung to each other, but the court astrologer strode up to the newly manifested presence and said, “O, spirit, wouldst thou aid these young people in their accomplishing their aim?”

“I am compelled to do as you demand as long as you are without the bounds of my predation,” said the spirit in a baritone that might have disarmed others had they not known of the mellifluous creature’s origin.

“Then tell this creature what troubles you,” said the astrologer to the young man and woman behind him.

Briar Rose stepped forward first. “Great spirit whose generosity we were promised, my husband and I are much distraught over our inability to have a child. We are a prince and princess, and the throne needs an heir. How can you help us?”

The One Who Would Aid Them paused. “Every night, before you take to bed and enjoy each other’s bodies, prick some part of your flesh and leave three drops of blood on a dish upon your windowsill. A rat will enter your chamber and require sustenance. In six weeks’ time, you will have reaped the fruit of the conjoining you practice.”

“A rat will drink our blood?” said the Prince. The creases his brow formed offset his otherwise youthful appearance.

“Aye, my lieges,” replied the One Who Would Aid Them. “When the princess’s womb has swollen, then the rat will cease to demand blood from you, but not a night before then should you stop feeding it. If you fail, then one of you will be forfeit.”

“Thank you, ever helpful one,” said the astrologer, who dismissed the spirit with a series of hand motions. Light returned to the bedchamber, and both prince and princess heaved sighs of relief.

“I hope my work has been of assistance to you, Your Highnesses,” said the magician, bowing once more.

“It has, good wizard,” said the Prince. “But when the One Who Would Aid Us claimed that the rat would want blood, did it refer to both of us or only to my wife?”

“Either of you will do, surely,” the astrologer replied. 

That night, Briar Rose and the Prince coupled with as much vigor as ever, though a nagging sense of dread vitiated their pleasure. 

“Are you worried, my love?” he asked her.

“I confess my apprehension,” she said. “What can we expect tonight?”

“Whatever happens, we will brave it together,” he said with a kiss just before the last of his exertions wore him out, and he drifted off to sleep.

As she watched her husband’s chest rise and fall, Briar Rose lay awake. She turned from her side to her back and let her mind race with the dire possibilities of what might occur. Within the span of a few minutes, a series of scratching noises sounded from the other side of the room. Briar Rose sat up, slid into her silken slippers, and walked to the source of the strange scraping.

She gasped at the sight that met her eyes. A rat so white that it fairly gleamed in the darkness perched on the windowsill. It twitched its whiskers at her.

“Art thou the rat I was told would invade this chamber?”

The rat squeaked. Briar Rose opened her mouth to continue speaking, but the rat bit her index finger, and blood beaded from the wound.

“ _Ooh_!” the princess shouted. When she grabbed onto her finger with her other hand, however, she felt no more blood or pain.

“This time, I appeared to you,” said the rat. “Tomorrow night onwards, you or your spouse must summon me.”

She walked back to bed and pulled the covers over her body, but sleep did not descend upon her.

In the morning, the princess told her husband what had transpired. She bore his incredulousness regally, and when nighttime came, she pricked her finger and let the blood drip onto a plate that she set in the windowsill. Rather than initiate the most intimate of contacts with her, the Prince sat beside his wife until the glowing white rat appeared seemingly out of nowhere. His jaw dropped, and he turned so that Briar Rose could see his expression. Then she showed him her healed finger, and his jaw descended again.

Throughout the next six weeks, the two mated enthusiastically, and each night, one or the other of the pair would prick his or her finger and leave the blood for the rat, and the rat would heal them.

But one night, neither Briar Rose nor the Prince remembered to feed the rat, and when the princess awoke the next morning, she found an empty space beside her.  
She sprang from the bed, flew to the door, and flung it open. 

“ _The Prince is missing_!” she screamed to all those within earshot.

Almost immediately afterward, Briar Rose collapsed into a sobbing heap. For days she confined herself to her bedchamber, refusing the meals her servants brought to her. The queen of the land ruled as best as she could with the thought of her missing son and grieving daughter-in-law distracting her every minute.

The astrologer could not possibly tell the Queen or anyone what he suspected had truly happened to the Prince.

Fortunately, to console the princess, the Queen turned once again to that very astrologer, who trotted behind her and wrung his hands, and instructed him to attend to Briar Rose.  
“See that her mind is suitably distanced from that which torments her,” said the Queen. “Thou art possessed of skill in the black and white arts; thou may tell her when my son is to return to her; should thy greatest powers desert thee, then thou still hast the recourse of thy conjuring tricks and illusions to capture her mind. Do what thou wilt so that the princess may resume a normal life; we cannot allow her to continue wallowing in despair. Whatever cantrip thou employed that bound the Prince can surely be undone. And more than that, I abjure to restore my son from the fiend that holds him captive, for he is flesh of my flesh. If you fail…” The Queen dragged the side of her index finger across her throat.

“To hear is to obey, Your Highness,” said the astrologer, executing a low bow immediately before stepping into the princess’s bedchamber.

The princess looked up from her tear-stained pillow when she heard the astrologer’s footsteps. 

“Why do you intrude upon me in my infinite sorrow?” she demanded. “Can you not see that I am in no mood for conversation?”

“I do see that. I may be able to help you.”

Briar Rose sat up and glared at the man. “How on Earth is that possible?”

“I had hoped dearly that this area of my expertise would never be necessary, but now I have no choice.”

In a voice as clear and deep as a river, the wizard recited an incantation that made Briar Rose shiver. As he spoke, a swirling black hole began to form beside him. This void grew larger and larger while the magician continued his chant until he finally stopped and the hole had become big enough to envelop them both.

“Beyond this portal lies the abode of the One Who Aided You, where resides your captured prince. If you can brave the realm that holds him, then you are sure to rescue him.”

“But I cannot wield a sword,” Briar Rose protested. “I have had no experience in battle. I am a princess, not a warrior.”

“You need be no more or less than what you are, if my estimation of your abilities and the dangers presented in the realm of the One Who Aided You is correct. You need no more than the goodness of your heart.”

“What sort of encouragement is that? Surely I cannot triumph with nothing more than goodness.”

“Oh, but you can. You will see.”

With a sigh, Briar Rose stepped into the portal that yawned before her.

She expected a lengthy walk through a featureless chasm, and though the path she trod indeed consisted of a singularly dark hall, she noticed a crimson light blazing in front of her after only seven minutes. Energy seized her, and she dashed the rest of the way into the creature’s lair.

When Briar Rose barged into the demon’s pit, her mouth dropped open. On the floor, beside the throne of onyx, knelt the Prince, his throat encircled by an iron collar attached to a chain. Instead of the silken hose and doublet that became him so handsomely, he wore brief, tattered rags.

She ran up to her bound spouse and cried, “My love, what has been done to you?”

“Can you not perceive what you see with your own eyes, my beauty? I have been abducted and enchained by the demon and can never more walk in the light of the world.” Tears beaded in the Prince’s eyes.

“It cannot be, darling,” said Briar Rose, who crouched down to massage her beloved’s face with one gloved hand. “Our love can conquer any evil.”

“Can it now?” demanded a deep voice that came from the other side of the wall. 

Both lovers froze. The One Who Had Aided Them emerged upon its throne, slouching.

“Cringe before me, princess, for your prince is to be mine for eternity.”

“He is _not_!” Briar Rose protested. “He belongs to none but me, and I am no less his.”

“If your love is as true as you say it is, then you will sacrifice for him. I will set him free…if you take his place.”

The Prince gasped, but Briar Rose bowed her head before the One Who Had Aided Them. 

“I will, O cruel one,” said the princess. “Set him free and enchain me in his stead.”

“No!” cried the Prince. “What are you doing?”

Briar Rose knelt down before the enthroned monster. “I am doing no more than the deepest love allows. Let me be your captive, demon, so that the Prince can walk the earth freely.”

The Prince insisted, “Do not accept her offer, demon, I beg of you! Keep me in this collar for eternity, only do not imprison her.”

“Nay, my prince, I would do anything for you, and this situation demands all I have.” She addressed the demon once more: “Kill me if you so desire. My life and soul will belong to you if you free my prince.”

The young man threw himself against the side of the spirit’s throne. “Please, I beseech you! Kill me by impaling me on your wicked claws or letting me starve slowly to death; I care not, as long as the princess is unharmed and safely among her people again!”

The two of them offered themselves to the fiendish captor by turns. Neither noticed how its countenance grew more and more agitated until it released a bloodcurdling howl, consumed its manifest body in flames, and turned to ashes.

The chain around the Prince’s neck weakened, unbound itself, and fell onto the floor. When he stood, Briar Rose took his hand and led him through the darkness and back into the land of the living.

Upon their return to their bedchamber, they saw the court astrologer standing in wait for them.

“How was your journey to the hidden realm?” he asked. “Did it distress you much?”

“All is well now that we are together again,” said Briar Rose.

Later that year, Briar Rose felt a swelling in her belly.


End file.
